“I don’t get it,” he said, finally. “What was that supposed to do?”
“Take a close look at the table,” Griffen said, giving a slight nod with his head.
Tail bent over and examined the cocktail table, his companions peering over his shoulder and Tammy craning her neck to see.
There were now ten holes in the Formica surface of the table, placed in two half circles where Griffen had rested his hands. The holes went all the way though the table and were wide enough they could see the floor through them.
“A word to the wise, Tail,” Griffen said softly. “Don’t fuck with me or any other dragon. When we get mad… even if we just get annoyed… we play for keeps. Now, I believe the door is that way.”
He turned his head and blew a smoke ring in the direction of the door.
The shape-shifters left without saying anything else.
Thirty-nine
Griffen was irritated. It took him some time to realize just why, but as the conclave wore on, he found his mood steadily declining. Not so much during the meetings and demonstrations, but after. During times and periods that should have been social.
He realized that the clique mentality of it all was what was getting to him. With little exception, like stayed with like. Each of the groups fractured into smaller groups, and little clusters wandered around the French Quarter, never mingling. Even if two different groups found the same bar, they would sit at opposite sides.
Only at conclave-sponsored events did any serious degree of mingling take place. The first that Griffen attended was a sponsored breakfast at Café Du Monde. He suspected that even then, most just showed up because someone else was picking up the bill. He had only shown up to make sure it wasn’t him.
Even then, it tended to be the lesser members of the various groups who showed up. The speakers and leaders seemed to avoid each other at all times. This was what was getting on Griffen’s nerves, considering that the whole function of this mess was, supposedly, to create understanding between groups. The hypocrisy was driving him crazy.
So he was pleasantly surprised to stumble upon a few of the major players sitting around a low table in the hotel lobby. He was further surprised by the cards in their hands and the piles of chips on the table.
A bit nervously he eyed the drinks as well, knowing that most bars clamped down on any gambling, but technically they were in the lobby. Someone must have been running drink orders to the bar. Either no one cared that they were playing cards, or someone had used their powers to keep the game from being bothered. Griffen knew he was simply happier not asking which was true.
Besides, he would never miss out on an opportunity to watch the group interact. Kane, Tink, and Tail he had some experience with, not all of it pleasant. The animal-control woman from Wyoming, Margie, was also playing. Next to her was Lowell. Two shifters, a fairy, a vampire, and a shaman. Playing poker. Oh yeah, no way Griffen was going to miss this.
He leaned against the nearest wall watching the hand. There was a certain amount of the cutthroat camaraderie that went on around most informal games. A bit of banter and conversation, most of it attempts to distract or gauge the other players. Griffen realized he played less now, despite running a gambling ring, than he had in college. Which was too bad, since he loved to play. Just watching one hand, he felt he knew more about these people than he had picked up in a half dozen encounters.
He was seriously considering stepping up to the game when Tail looked up and caught his eye.
“Do somethin’ for you, McCandles?” Tail asked.
“Just watching the game,” Griffen said.
Tail snorted, a disgusted sound that matched his souring expression. The others at the table watched the two closely. By now, everyone had heard about the incident between them.
“Just watching, not playing?”
It didn’t take a dragon, or a card shark, to figure out Tail’s motivations. He had backed down from Griffen, or at least that was what the rumor mill had turned the bar incident into. This was a chance to try to gain some face or make Griffen lose some.
If it had just been Tail, it wouldn’t have been a problem. Unfortunately, the loup garou Kane piped up in his mixed accent.
“ ’Eard me dis dragon he one serious cardplayer. Don’ know I wan’ him in dis here game.”
Tail turned his attention to the garou. If anything, his expression grew worse, almost a sneer.
“Wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t think ‘dis’ dragon is about to lower himself and play with our sort.”
The garou blinked as he considered that. His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at Griffen.
“Dat changes tings some. You no play ’cause you too good for de game? Or de company?” Kane challenged.
For a moment, Griffen considered how to respond, knowing that a moment might be too long. Like at the poker table, any hesitation was a tell. Of weakness, of deceit, of anything. As fast on his feet as he was, he wasn’t sure he had an answer that would satisfy both of the shifters.
Then again, there were more players in this game than three.
“Now, isn’t that fascinating,” Lowell said. “ A garou agreeing with another type of shifter. I’m amazed one of you isn’t trying to mark territory on the other’s leg.”
Tail glared, but Kane threw out a bark of laughter. Short, sharp, loud. “Bark” was definitely the word.
“Good point dere, vampy. Still, what is said can no be took back. You tink you betta den us or no, dragon?” Kane said.
“Honestly, how could I know? I haven’t really gotten a chance to know any of you,” Griffen said.
“Den sit down and play dem cards, boy! Dat de best way to know people.”
“Yes, Mr. McCandles,” Margie said, “Solve it all neatly and sit. I for one would like some new blood at the table. These four have grown far too predictable.”
Griffen surrendered to the inevitable and sat. Once already a comment had been made, offhandedly, about the animal-control specialist having excellent judgment. It did seem the best way to settle things. He also noticed that her stack of chips was higher than the others’.
Griffen acquired some chips, and the next hand was dealt. He kept one eye on the table, and one firmly on Tail. Griffen didn’t know what Tail had expected from this conversation, but it was clear he wasn’t happy. He glared at his cards and muttered in a voice just loud enough for the others to hear.
“Figures he would be coddled up to by the human.”
Margie stiffened, and the rest of the players went still. Even Tink, whom Griffen thought of as fairly laid-back, had gone rigid. His eyes were wide, shocked. Kane was growling low in the back of his throat.
“That was uncalled for,” Lowell said.
“Low. Real low,” Kane said.
“It’s not my fault if she wants to suck up to the dragon,” Tail said.
Several of the others spoke at once, all angry.
“What business is it of yours?” from Kane.
“She wasn’t sucking up to anyone,” said Tink.
“How dare you imply—” started Margie.
“HOLD IT!”
Griffen hadn’t moved a muscle, but his voice was hard and loud enough to cut through the rest. Everyone looked at him, and he slowly, carefully considered Tail.
“What do you mean ‘human’?” Griffen asked.
The others looked about uncomfortably; it was Margie who answered.
“Those who are magic see those who simply do magic as less. Humans playing with things they don’t understand,” she said.
“But what you do, call it magic or not, it is natural to you, isn’t it?” Griffen said.
“De hoodoos, animal control, dey borderline. You notice we don’ got no vodoun or wicca at the table,” Kane said.
“Spell slingers are seen as lesser. Only the truly powerful ones are respected enough to even be invited to a conclave such as this,” Lowell said.
“So when Tail called her human, he wa
s calling her second-class. One who didn’t belong?” Griffen asked.
The others nodded. Griffen ran that over in his head several times, but it was a slippery concept. To give himself a bit more thinking room, he asked the obvious follow-up question.
“Then how do you all feel about normal, mundane humans?”
If anything, everyone seemed even more uncomfortable. Tail had lost most of his angry look and now seemed merely embarrassed. Griffen hoped he regretted his comments. Margie spoke first again, perhaps because of the accusation.
“Feelings are mixed of course. But definitely less. They are so limited, and so arrogant with it. Thinking they are so much, when they do so little. And so much of what they do is harmful to themselves and everyone else,” she said.
“Ignorant and proud of it,” Kane said.
“Blind,” Tink said, his voice so sad that Griffen was sure he was dwelling on some specific memory.
“Individuals can be respected. Individuals are capable of great glory, love, miracles. But as a whole… sometimes…” Margie said.
“What?” asked Griffen.
“I hate them,” she finished, and hung her head slightly.
Griffen cranked the turrets around and focused again on Tail. Griffen would have to consider what they had all said, but later. These were heavy concepts, but it was obvious that Tail had meant harm with his words. That had to be addressed now and not allowed to pass.
Besides, he had finally figured out what to say.
“You seem to have a bad habit of insulting women when I’m around. So are you jealous of me… or of them?”
“What are you implyin’?” Tail said, angry again.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” Griffen said.
His tone was full of false innocence, and no one at the table missed it. Margie looked up again, and Kane sniggered. Before Tail could respond, Griffen continued.
“But you should know that it takes more than this to get under my skin. You are just making an ass of yourself in front of everyone. Good thing Jay is your speaker, or you might be reflecting on all the other shifters.”
“ ’Cept us,” Kane said smugly.
“I—” Tail started.
“You are being an ass,” Lowell said, though surprisingly gently.
Tail stopped and looked around the table. He looked at Margie. For the most part she had remained calm, stiff but collected. He took in a long, slow breath.
“I apologize,” he said.
She nodded and looked back at her cards. Tail turned his attention back to Griffen.
“I’m used to being the biggest fish in the pond. Ain’t no shifter never who outdid me. Then you come and do nothing and get fawned over. So in that way, maybe I was jealous. I guess a part of me was hopin’ to draw you into a fight.”
Griffen was surprised once again. Tail was being honest, open, and—for him—eloquent. If this kept up, Griffen might have to reevaluate his whole situation. On the basis of a card game.
“I can understand that. But, Tail, I haven’t seen you do anything either, and I never challenged the respect you were shown.”
“Well, damn. You’re right. Guess you are better then me, without doin’ a damn thing.”
This time Griffen didn’t need a moment’s hesitation. “Not better,” Griffen said. “Just different.”
The delayed hand was finally played. Then another. It would have become nothing more than another card game. Though one where some peace was made. Would have been.
If Tammy hadn’t walked into the lobby.
She flounced in, scanning the room, about an hour after Griffen had sat down. He actually heard her before he saw her. She let out a tiny, girlish squeal when she saw him, and when he turned to look, she was already rushing his way.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Grif—”
She stopped a few feet from the table, eyes fixing on Tail. He and the rest were watching her. Hard not to considering her enthusiastic entrance. Griffen caught a bit of tightness around Tail’s eyes, a bit of anger that was being suppressed. But suppressed well.
“Don’t worry, girl,” Tail said gruffly. “Still don’t like that you cheated, but it’s been pointed out to me that I’ve been being an ass. So let’s forget the whole thing and start over?”
“Come join the game, Tammy,” Griffen offered, nodding to a chair that could be pulled over.
The others exchanged glances. Griffen realized the hesitation. They were still major players, and Tammy a follower. Still, a truce of sorts had been made, and no one seemed willing to break it by excluding her.
She made it unnecessary.
“Oh… poker. No, thanks, but would it be all right to watch?”
This time Griffen glanced about, checking reactions. He didn’t want to upset things either, now that they were settling down. Everyone seemed to have no problem with that, having relaxed and refocused on their cards.
“Sure thing, Tammy. Glad to have you,” he said.
And turned to her to smile.
Which, from the sudden light in her eyes, was a mistake. She gave off another half squeal, and as Griffen turned back to the table, he felt her stand directly behind him. At first it wasn’t distracting. Till she leaned over to look at his cards closer. Brushing his shoulder with her breast might have been an accident. Whispering into his ear was not.
“Wow, you are really… good,” she said, in a tone that despite his best intentions made his temperature spike a bit.
“Thanks.”
Griffen was an experienced player, thought of himself as very good. He wasn’t one to let distractions change his expression, or mess up his game. He had played in harder, and hotter, situations before.
She bit his earlobe, and he almost dropped his cards. “Uh, Tammy, a little space please?”
“Sure thing.”
She leaned back, and laid her hands on his shoulders. He was too polite to suggest she move farther. Or perhaps take a chair.
Griffen watched his other players, and they watched him. For the most part they seemed… amused. Kane was practically leering. Margie had a smirk on her face. Lowell was looking a little too closely at his cards, in that way one did when he wanted to be obvious about not looking somewhere else. Even Tail had a glint in his eye that meant he was either enjoying Tammy’s show or Griffen’s discomfort.
Tink looked nervous. As if he would get blamed for the other changeling’s behavior. Tammy started to idly run a finger through Griffen’s hair.
So, Griffen thought to himself, this is what a gangster with a moll on his arm must feel like.
“So, Griffen,” Tammy said as the game went on, “I really like New Orleans. I was even thinking about moving here. Say… do you know where I might find a place to stay? Or, maybe have some place I could… sleep. For a while.”
No, if gangsters felt like this, they would shoot all the molls. Tammy was as subtle as a brick.
“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea, Tammy,” Griffen said.
Her hands tightened against him.
“What isn’t a good idea?” she said.
The card game had all but stopped. This was far better entertainment.
“Uh… would you excuse us? Tammy, can I talk to you, privately?”
“You can talk to me now! What isn’t a good idea? Moving, or being close to you? Don’t you like me?!”
He wished he had moved her away from the table earlier, but it was such a sudden shift that it caught Griffen flat-footed. He had forgotten how damn mercurial the changelings could be. And that last question was almost shrieked, and there just wasn’t any good answer to it.
Griffen, in the tradition of brave, i.e. stupid, men throughout history, tried to answer anyway.
“It’s not that, Tammy, but I already basically have two girlfriends as it is, and—”
It was not the time to think on whether or not Fox Lisa or Mai would mind the changeling girl for a night. Besides, with Tammy, he doubted it would eve
r be just “one night.”
“Two! Two?! Well, then what’s one more?”
“Tammy, relax, let me explain.”
“Explain… I thought you wanted… I thought we had… YOU BASTARD!”
Tammy slapped him, and it hurt. It actually hurt as if he had been hit with a baseball bat. He looked down and saw that her hand was the color of wood. Though there was a slight crack in it, and tears streaming down her face.
“Ow!” she said, whirled, and ran away.
Griffen instinctively started to rise and follow.
“Stop.”
Griffen looked over at Tink, who was shaking his head.
“I’ve seen her like this before. If you follow her, it will mean you love her, and you will never be rid of her.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Griffen said.
“I know. Nothing you did, or said, would have happened with a sane, normal girl. But our Tammy—she’s something special, even for a changeling,” Tink said.
He shook his head and stood.
“Cash me out, will you? I can follow her at a distance, and if she catches me… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. Trust me, Griffen, you don’t want to follow, I learned that one the hard way,” Tink said.
Tink collected what was left of his stake and strolled out into the night. Griffen watched him go, knowing Tink was right but his instincts telling him what a brute and fool he had been.
“Relax, McCandles. That truly was not your fault. That one is unbalanced,” Lowell said.
“No one could have done better at that point. You made the right choices,” Margie said.
“Yeah, we spread it round. You in da clear. She just crazy.” Kane nodded vigorously.
Somehow that didn’t comfort Griffen. He could only imagine what the rumor mill would make of this one.
And he certainly wasn’t in the mood to play cards anymore.
Forty
Flynn knew there was someone in his room.
He had been out for an evening stroll, reviewing in his own head where things stood. Griffen seemed sufficiently distraught, the pressure of the conclave blending nicely with the pressures he had been heaping on. All that was needed was one last plan, one last push. Something from within the conclave itself perhaps. Flynn already had a seed of an idea, and the walk had been just the thing he needed for it to blossom.
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